Innocents Abroad

We landed in Stansted north of London and rented a Ford Focus for the drive to Manchester. I switched on the radio and searched in vain for some good Rock and Roll. Eventually we found a BBC interview of a British chef. The DJ asked him what his favorite dish was that his mother made when he was young. He responded with: “sugar, lemon juice and suet”. Suet!!! Fat from around a cow’s organs?? The stuff my parents fed to birds in the winter?? Yuck! He then went on to laud the flavor of his mother’s steak and kidney pie with “at least 40% kidneys”. Cam looked at us in horror. “Kidneys?” he asked disgustedly. “Does he mean the organ that extracts impurities from the blood and makes urine?” Wow, he really did learn something in Katie’s biology classes this year. “Yes Cam, we can try some in London.” We responded jokingly. “Great,when can we go home?”.

The drive to Manchester offered more interesting experiences to all of us. I remembered (fairly quickly after the brush with a Lorry to stay on the left side of the road; Jack and Cam learned to keep their eyes closed tightly at all times, and Danielle learned how to piercingly shout “Look Out!!!” with an English accent. What is the saying? Something about what does not kill you makes you stronger? We should be weight lifting champs by now.

After a brief stop for lunch and a stroll at Cannon Manor (Cam was disappointed that it was not haunted), we wove our way across Lancashire county on the A635. Gradually the landscape changed from small industrial cities to wide open rolling hills of heather, bog and grass dotted with sheep. One of the dramatic features is the utter lack of trees. You can see for miles. Bit by bit, the sun began to pop out, but even with it the temperature hovered stubbornly low at about 15 C, 60 F. After getting a bit lost in the small village of Saddleworth, we eventually found the Boarsthurst Lane Hostel. It was a three room school converted into a basic bunk house with two large rooms filled with bunk beds, a living / dinning room, large functional bath rooms and a large kitchen. Jack’s groggy team were there eating a late lunch after arriving by bus from Heathrow.

Following lunch, we all (21 lively boys, three weary coaches and five weary chaperons (including two intrepid mothers!) headed up the hill behind the hostel for a hike. The grazing fields began almost immediately, followed quickly thereafter by the lovely turf covered slopes of the hills. Vegetation included heather and even patches of low bush blueberries… not the big fat high bush ones like they have in New Jersey; fat and with as much flavor as a beach ball… the small low bush ones like we have in Maine; tons of work to pick, but bursting with flavor. The kids were practically at the top of the hill by the time we old timers were half way up. We picked our way carefully through the presents that the sheep had left behind like soldiers in a mine field. When we reached the World War I monument that dominates the top of the hill, views stretched out to the South, West and North. To the south, the view dropped down through a valley and then up to another rugged, heather topped ridge on the other side. To the west, the rolling hills gradually shrank to reveal the busy city of Manchester like an industrial Oz in the distance. To the north, rolling valleys and small villages disappeared in the distance. Wow! What a marvelous place.

This morning, against the backdrop of one such beautiful hill, the boys played their first match against a local team. Was it raining? No, it was pouring. It rained so hard, I think I saw a few sheep floating down the hillside. Worst of all, it was blowing a gale. The rain cut horizontally into us. I knew it was bad when a local Dad walked by, shook his head and said “Bloody Hell”, not once, but twice.

After the game we returned with the team to the hostel and said our goodbyes. Our Innocents Abroad are in for a fantastic adventure.